


Lure

by Chaeriee (orphan_account)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate universe - Mafia, Bottom Lance (Voltron), Falling In Love, Fluff and Humor, Gang Leader Keith, How Do I Tag, Keith's Wolf - Freeform, Lance's family - Freeform, M/M, Mafia Boss Keith, Sendak - Freeform, Shiro - Freeform, Smut, altea is a ally-ish gang, blade of marmora, bom are a gang, keith takes care of homeless kids, second chapter is explicit and can be ignored if you want, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-17 15:27:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15464445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Chaeriee
Summary: Becoming indebted to Keith Kogane was not a part of Lance's future plans. Falling for him, even less so.for Warmybones❤️





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



_“Witchcraft is real,”_ Lance found himself saying.

He said it under his breath, hushed like a secret, like a bullseye as he squirmed under the dark eyes of the Marmora Gang’s leader. The leader, Keith Kogane, tilted his chin up, boring into Lance’s form as he regarded him. Lance tried not to fidget. He dug his fingers into the hem of his shirt, begging himself to not shudder under the other man’s intense gaze.

Lance’s mother had always warned him about the dangers of curses. In a low, dramatic voice, his mama had told him he’d know a curse when he saw it, felt it. But, she had also said, never let it get farther than you can handle. Break it, she pressed, before it gets out of control.

A curse _had_ to be what made Lance nearly four million dollars in debt for an accident he didn’t commit, for his sister who nearly lost her leg to a selfish rich asshole with a shark’s smile.

For days Lance had wracked his brain for any sign, any reason that things had ended up as they did. Maybe it was in the way he’s gotten a flat tire exactly one mile from home; how he’d gotten drenched on that walk home because his phone had died and couldn’t call a tow truck; how his AC had busted in the middle of the night, leaving him sweating and gross. It was the escalation of each how that led him here, desperate Rolo, uneasy and full of regret, telling him he knew where he could go. The warning was in his gaze, his tone, and Lance hadn’t cared.

Witchcraft was what had concocted Lance’s misfortunes. Witchcraft was what had sculpted Keith Kogane, dangerous and sharp. Even as Lance’s body begged him to run, Lance found himself rooted, pinned by the dark blue of Keith’s eyes, deep like swirling seawater. _Danger, danger_.

“What will you give me in return?” Keith had drawled.

Mama’s voice blared in his head. _Run, Lance._ Lance was never good at listening to good advice, anyway.

Lance tipped his chin up and said, “Myself.”

 -

 Lance tried not to take offense when Keith had flat-out laughed; head tipped back and teeth sickle sharp. Lance hated how hot it made him. Keith made a show of wiping at his eye, still chuckling.

 “It’s real cute how you think you’re worth it,” Keith snarked, a quirk at the corner of his lip.

 A trill of fear gripped at Lance, wracking his brain for what else he could possibly give. There was no way he was going to involve his family. They’d hit a rough spot when his granny took ill, medical bills piling up, Veronica’s lost job, his niece and nephew moving in. His father’s tired eyes, still trying to smile under the weight of his darkened eye bags, holding tightly to his Mama’s hand, like he needed the strength. Lance couldn’t put them through anymore.

 “Still,” Keith continued. “You’re the first guy in a long time that’s bothered to interest me. Fine, I’ll lend you a hand.”

 Showing off a row of white teeth, Keith said: “You’re _mine_ now.”

 -

 That night, many nights, Lance would look down at his hand. At the streaks of white spilled over his fingers. The dying hum of pleasure giving way to shame, and the low timbre of Keith’s voice still echoing in his mind.

" _You’re mine, mine, mine, mine”_.

 Lance fought back the what-ifs of another life, another time, the vision of pale fingers pinning him down. The phantom feeling of Keith’s knife-sharp words raising goosebumps didn’t stop Lance from doing it again the next night and the nights to come.

 -

 Lance startled awake at the buzz of his phone. He blearily searched for it in the mess of his sheets until he fished it out from inside his pillowcase. Sitting there on his lock-screen was one simple message from an unknown number: _Be ready in one hour._

 It took Lance a few heart-hammering moments to realize that it was from his new boss.

  _His new boss_ . Lance couldn’t wrap his head around that one. He had really had a conversation with a gang leader, had _sold_ himself. The gravity of it all hadn’t set in that in the few days that had passed since. He had simply gone through the motions, packing his things, pulling his family into hugs that lingered. He only smiled at their quizzical looks, at Veronica’s hawk eyes. This was something he had to do for them. They had enough going on.

 He had barely three days to square his business away under the guise of a new job that required relocation. Lance had lied through his teeth that he would be bumming on a couch until he could get his own apartment, or properly pay - a friend his share of rent.

 His mother didn’t look happy. Not just for the precarious situation, but for the fact that he would be away from them. Didn’t help that he was the youngest, either. Lance could still feel his mother’s grip on his hands when he had kissed them goodbye last night. Her fingers had pressed into the skin of his wrists, her eyes drawn up to him sadly. He bent as he always had, let her kiss his forehead. Next to her, his father cupped his cheek.

He told them he loved them, and that was that.

Each piece of clothing he pulled on made him feel a little heavier. The way his jacket sat on his shoulders, the weight of his shoes, laces pulled tight, dragging his feet, trying to keep him rooted in his apartment, in his home. Keith had coolly given Lance the upfront cash to end his contract, smirking that he would just add it to his bill. His landlord had been so perplexed. He had just signed the renewal. Lance could only smile. All the time only smile.

Lance sat up on his bed, looking over at the bags sitting under his bedroom window. Nausea bubbled in his gut, made his mind go a mile a minute. He couldn’t fathom just what Keith had in store for him. What did a gang leader even require from a guy like him? He had lucked out just getting the guy to even agree by some miracle.

Would he make him a personal punching bag? Shank someone? Whore himself out? Lance wiped his hands on his pants legs. How much of himself was he kissing goodbye?

He glanced at the family photo on his nightstand. He traced their faces, their smiles, and told himself that it didn’t matter. He could endure anything. Like when he’d been bullied mercilessly for his accent in childhood, foreign words bumpy and wrong on his tongue, or the heartbreak Stephanie had given him in middle school, or nearly losing Marco that one year in high school. He could do it.

Lance wasn’t sure he believed it.

-

A sleek black car pulled up in front of Lance’s complex. Lance could only see his own reflection in the tinting of the windows. He heard the locks on the car doors pop up, and watched the a passenger window slide down. A man with his hair combed back and the fact shadow of a beard on a carefully neutral face stared back at him. He was quiet for a moment too long.

“You’re Lance, then,” The man said. It wasn’t a question. The trunk popped open. “Put your stuff in the trunk and get in. Keith’s waiting for us.”

Lance nodded mutely and shoved his bags into the back. His vision swam for a moment, sliding down the length of his nose. When he closed the trunk down, his eyes were dry.

He hesitated at the passenger seat before dropping himself next to the man and buckling himself in. The window rolled up and the locks clicked into place. Lance gripped the belt over his chest. His toes curled in his shoes. At the corner of Lance’s vision the man shot him a sidelong glance. They pulled away from the parking lot and out towards the highway The engine roared quietly as the man flew through the lanes easily.

“I’m Regris, by the way,” The man said. “Since you’re going to be working for Keith, I figure you should know.”

“Oh.” Awkwardly, Lance cleared his throat. “Hi.”

Regris snorted. “He’s going to eat you alive, Kid.”

Lance scrunched his nose, not dignifying that with an answer. Under his dress shirt and sloppily fastened suspenders, Regris looked like he could chuck Lance a good few feet with one arm. Better not to start this off with an enemy already.

“Anyway. You and I are probably gonna see each other the most. So let’s lay down some ground rules.” Regris flicked one finger up from the steering wheel.

“One: No one can know who you work for. Never compromise the Blades.” He popped another finger up. “Two: If you wanna go somewhere, you gotta run it by Keith, and if he says okay, then I’ll be taking you where you need to. Three: If Keith tells you he wants something done, you do it. It doesn’t matter what you’re doing at that moment, you do as you’re told. Four: Keep your head down and you’ll be fine.” Regris moved his hand to the middle of the steering wheel, drumming his fingers against the horn. “Questions?”

“No,” Lance grunted. “I think I got it.”

Regris chuckled, a sound that reminded Lance a lot of Luis when he thought he was being sneaky. Regris blew air through his lips. “Man this is gonna be interesting.”

-

Regris had been right about it being interesting. The Marmora base had been rows and rows of black and purple accented apartment buildings, secured around high-rising black metal gates. It wasn’t anything like the mansions Altea and Galra had, but it was daunting in its own way. It stood out amongst, a dark mountain compared to the rest of the area. Lance didn’t have much time to take in his surroundings before Regris was pulling him along through the complex, up at least four staircases and into what seemed to be Keith’s office. 

Lance’s knees had been knocking, the urge to hide behind Regris mounting until Keith had set his dark eyes on him and asked, “Who the hell are you?”

Lance’s jaw had dropped just as Regris had slapped a hand over his face. Lance inched out from behind Regris, blinking awkwardly.

“Uhhh, the name’s Lance? I sold myself to you a few days ago?” Lance awkwardly told him.

To his credit, Keith looked kind of embarrassed as he seemed to realize who he was.

“Right,” Keith had muttered. “...Right.”

If Lance didn’t know better, a faint blush had risen to his cheeks as Keith looked to Regris for some help. The other man shook his head, turning away. 

Lance was hard pressed to think this was the same guy who’d made him aroused and terrified when he’d requested audience with him. They certainly looked the same, down to the rumpled, expensive suit he was wearing. But the look on his face, boyish, awkward, and a lot less mob boss, made Lance unsure.  

Keith cleared his throat. He leaned forward and laced his fingers together.

“How good are you at cooking?” 

Lance let his mouth hang open. “Pardon?”

“Cooking. How good are you at it? That, and cleaning,” Keith replied.

Lance gripped the ends of his jacket in his hands, looking down and around at his shoes, trying for words.  “I’m not...bad? I come from a big family, so like, cooking, cleaning, I’m pretty adept at it. Yeah. I can multitask. Uhm, I can follow a recipe.”

Keith nodded. “Cool. So that’s why you’re here.” He gestured around him; Lance begrudgingly took in the room, cringing at the mess. To the side, in a dog bed, was a dog who looked way more wolf than a dog should. It blinked one eye open at Keith’s voice before going back to sleep. Cushions and papers, cartons, and clothes  were all over the floor. Dirty, fingerprint stained windows. Curtains that looked like they needed to have been replaced years ago. Layers of dust on the overhead fan. 

Lance wasn’t sure he had heard right. He asked Keith twice just in case, at a loss for the way Keith seemed to grow annoyed that he would. 

“You think I have time to up and clean the place myself? I have a gang to run!” Keith had exclaimed, every bit the twenty-one year old Lance himself was.

It took everything in him not to laugh when Regris snidely told Keith that every other Blade in the gang was capable of cleaning and cooking for themselves, and received a petulant look in return.

It was nothing short of his mother’s nightmare, and Lance couldn’t help but feel the same. 

“This whole floor belongs to me. Keep this place clean and tidy, do some of my laundry, if you can iron, do that, cook something. That’s pretty much all I expect of you. Your room is one floor down, so once you’re done, feel free to head there.”

“So. Like a maid,” Lance concluded slowly. He wanted to make sure he was getting this right. “You want me to be your maid.”

Keith made an awkward, abortive shrug. “Yeah, technically. You just aren’t getting paid.”

“How do I know when I’ve like paid off my debt?” Lance asked.

“Leave that to me. You’re in way too deep to be thinking of that right now. How soon can you start?”

Lance blew out air. He took in the office, his unease melting into annoyance. If the office was this bad, he could only dread what the rest of Keith’s rooms were like. Lance sighed, shoulders sagging, already tired.

“Got a broom around here?”

Lance had to look away at the small smile Keith let slide across his face.

-

The first month passed as awkwardly as his first day had. He and Keith danced around each other tensely, barely speaking except for maybe when Lance asked Keith to raise his feet so he could vacuum or to stiffly ask for more supplies. Keith had occupied the entire fourth floor of one of the complexes, and each room he had was a mess. Surprisingly, there was not a lot of personal touches in any room.

Aside from the dog bed and a few toys he kept for his wolfdog, Nova, Keith only had a picture of what Lance assumed to be his parents and a man he’d been introduced to as Shiro, a liaison between Altea and Marmora. It saddened Lance, almost. He’d managed to weasel a little bit of information from Regris about Keith, and how he’d essentially been raised in the gang since birth, and grown up on the Marmora compound at that. It was odd that he hadn’t bothered to make it seem more homey. Lance couldn’t judge, anyway. He had a debt to pay off.

Lance took in as much stride as he could.

Some days, he was lonely. He was so used to being in a full house, some noise, some life always thrumming through the walls. Here, despite all the dozens of Blade members, it couldn’t have been more detached. Time to time he saw them training, Keith’s amusingly small figure amongst them a force to be reckoned with. He didn’t talk to many people, Keith even less. The Blades generally didn’t seem to have much interest in him other than the knowledge that Keith had made him off-limits. They regarded him with as much interest as one regarded an ant milling along and nothing more. Occasionally Regris showed up to make sure he was okay, take him out for supplies or whatnot, but otherwise he was alone.

Just as stubborn was Keith’s wolfdog, Nova. She hadn’t seemed to like him much in the beginning, shying away when he tried to call to her, and turning her back on him when he offered her a treat.

It wasn’t until Lance had become fed up with the quiet of the fourth floor, that Nova had seemed to warm up to him.

He’d been in the kitchen, mopping up when a tune had risen out of him, familiar and unbidden. It was the usual tune his grandma sang at the top of her lungs, every morning when she was rousing them and they were all milling around the kitchen setting breakfast up for the whole family. If there was no noise around, then Lance would make it himself. He’d cleared his throat and let his voice fly. Lance had let himself be free, shaking his hips and swinging around the broom handle like it was a dance partner.

Nova had nosed her way in, head tilting at the way his voice crescendoed, and tail thumping almost in time with the beat. He slid around her, grinning at the way she seemed to become excited, dancing on her big paws and following him around as he wiped down counters and cupboards and set to putting some water to boil.

When he finished his song, he’d bowed and gotten a face full of kisses. It made him feel just a little bit better.

If Keith’s dog could become to affectionate, then maybe, Lance thought, he could get Keith to warm up to him, too.

He started small.

Keith never ate meals with him, and if it weren’t for the stacked plates in the sink, Lance would think maybe he wasn’t eating his food either. The next time he had made Keith’s lunch, he had left a sticky note. A little one, with the words _“Is the food okay?”_ written on it.

Keith’s meal times were odd, and generally, Lance just cooked and wrapped things up and stuck them into the fridge for him. When he’d finished, Lance had hurried to his own little apartment Keith had let him have on the third floor and anxiously waited, hoping Keith would reply. Lance fell into a sudden sleep, waking up randomly in the night to wash his face and slather on a face mask as he crawled back in to bed.

The next day, it wasn’t until Lance was setting up to wash the dishes, he saw his sticky note sitting on the plate the ox-tail used to be on. It was a little greasy, and a lot less sticky, but under Lance’s scrawl was a reply: _It’s good. Thanks._

A flush of happiness swept through Lance at that. He peeked over his shoulder at Nova who was waiting patiently for her breakfast, her tail wagging as Lance’s smile grew on his face.

“I’m gonna knock his socks off, Baby Girl!” He told her.

After that, Lance started leaving notes all over Keith’s things and place. The first couple questions were pretty standard. How he was doing with things, if Keith preferred one method or another, if he wanted a particular meal or not. Keith replied each time. _You’re doing fine, just do as you’re doing, pepper steak, please,_ and so on. Lance pushed the boundary more after that, leaving longer notes, leaving tidbits about himself, innocently requesting information back about Keith.

He worried if maybe he’d be crossing lines by doing so. But no one had come back to him about it, and Keith certainly hadn’t punished him for being nosy. Lance had started making little doodles in the corner, maybe even dotting his I’s with hearts. It earned him a few hasty little smiley facies in return.

 

_I’m the youngest of four. Do you have siblings?_

_I have an older sister but we don’t talk._

 

_What’s your favorite movie? I like Predator._

_Fast and the Furious, don’t judge me._

 

_What’s with the mullet?_

_It’s not a mullet!_

 

Then, Keith had showed up just as Lance was getting ready to put his dinner away and head downstairs. Rubbing the back of his neck, Keith grimaced. He jutted a thumb over his shoulder.

“Do you want to eat with me?” Keith said.

Lance had never said yes so fast.

Not unlike their first few sticky notes, the meal was tense and awkward. Keith wasn’t all that good face to face in a conversation when business wasn’t the topic. Lance had passed by enough times watching him pouring over maps and papers with Thace and Ulaz, his face serious and determined, as he shot words back and forth with each of them, completely in his element.

Alone with Lance, he was that boyish twenty-one year old he’d been hiding under the expensive suit. He was in a pair of sweats and a simple, comfy t-shirt. They looked like two old friends catching up, even if Lance was doing most of the talking. It didn’t matter, he figured he’d talk enough for both of them until Keith could catch the flow.

It didn’t take long, to Lance’s surprise. Nova had come nosing in when Lance had waved around a rib bone. She propped herself up on his lap, trying her hardest to be cute even as Lance gently scolded her. Across from them, Keith was smiling behind his hand, unable to stop himself from teasing Lance about spoiling her.

From there, they’d fallen into something genuine and easy, and Lance had fallen asleep hugging his pillow, Keith’s smile edging at the corner of his mind.

-

The first time Keith came back injured, was the first time Lance became really aware of who Keith was. It wasn’t like he didn’t know. He’d sold himself to the other man after all.

He’d been awoken to the furious sound of feet pounding at the stairs. He looked out his door to the sight of Thace and Ulaz, Regris and Antok in tow, each carrying something. Between them was Keith. Lance would recognize that mullet anywhere. He wandered out, looking up at where they were furiously, quietly muttering amongst themselves. Drops of blood followed them up the stairs; Lance’s body went cold.

Without thinking, Lance was bounding up the stairs, hyper aware of the puddles of blood, and the lone light on in the lounge. His jacket was thrown to the ground, the side soaked. On the couch not too far in was Ulaz bent over their leader, his face grim and his hands working furiously. A bag of blood was hanging from a tall stand, the IV stuck in Keith’s arm. Around him was Thace, his hand moving along Keith’s forehead, muttering to him. Antok spotted him first.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Antok said.

“Is he going to be okay?” Lance replied instead. He gripped the front of his shirt, watching the way Keith’s eyes lolled around in his head. His mouth moved sluggishly, trying to answer whatever it was Thace was asking of him. Lance hugged himself.

“Ulaz won’t let anything happen to him,” Antok said. “And he’s too damn stubborn otherwise.”

He looked like he wanted to shoo Lance once again when he crossed the threshold into the room. Lance only hesitated one step before he was kneeling beside Keith’s head, leaning over his face. Keith’s hazy eyes focused on him. He abortively tried to reach for him. Thace gently pulled back.

“ ‘anssss,” Keith slurred. “Lann?”

“I’m here, Samurai,” Lance soothed. He laid a hand to his cheeks, rubbing his thumbs across them. “What’d you get yourself into?”

Something like a smile came across his face. “Usssual,” Keith said.

Lance looked up at Thace who was shaking his head. He flicked Keith on the forehead, uncaring of the mumbled ow he shot at him. Keith leaned into Lance’s touch.

“Reckless, as always,” Thace answered. “He’s lucky it worked.”

“Lucky it keeps working,” Regris chimed in. He was leaning against the wall, fingers too tightly wound into the fabric of his jacket.

“Well, he’ll be off his feet for some time yet. So we won’t have to worry for a while,” Ulaz said. “I’ve sealed the wound. The transfusion is also going smoothly. He should be fine, but I’d rather his condition be monitored in the meantime.”

“I can do it,” Lance piped up. “I can keep him talking and you guys can go wash off and eat and come back. Maybe take turns napping.”

The room was silent, all eyes turned to Ulaz who watched Keith’s eyes fluttering. He scrunched his face in pain every so often, but otherwise, his breathing seemed to even off. He sighed; He nodded to Thace.

“Thank you, Lance,” Ulaz said. “He is in your care.”

With a muted groan, Ulaz stood up, falling in place under Thace’s arm as they joined Antok and Regris and hobbled out of the room. Lance’s eyes followed them, rubbing circles into Keith’s cheeks just a little more firmly.

“You really know how to get a guy’s attention, huh?” Lance gently asked. Keith grinned. He frowned, trying to remember how to move his limbs.

“Only if the guy is cute,” Keith slurred.

Lance flicked him on the forehead, ducking his head, despite the fact that Keith probably couldn’t tell he was blushing just the same. “Please just lie still and get better. Stupid, Mullet.”

Keith hummed. “Just as long as you stay with me.”

Narrowly resisting the urge to kiss Keith’s forehead, Lance agreed.

-

A recovering Keith was an obnoxious Keith. Keith was so used to moving around and doing things on his own, that he was downright annoying when he couldn’t. Ulaz had been strict about him taking it easy and resting. Keith thought otherwise. Countless times as Lance had slipped out to do his usual cleaning, he’d come back and caught Keith slumped against the wall, threatening to pop his stitches. Then, Lance had dragged him back and scolded him within an inch of his life.

It was the first time they’d fought, if only because of Keith’s stubbornness. A stubborn Keith was a jackass of a Keith. Lance wasn’t known to back down and more than half the time, Nova was fleeing the room because they were arguing so much. At some point, they’d eventually gotten tired of arguing, or maybe Keith had just gotten plain tired, and he’d invited Lance in to lie down next to him.

They lied side by side, a pillow laid between them; Lance’s fingers itched to hold his hands. Cradling Keith’s face as he had, he’d grown addicted, he wanted more. It was almost hurtful that Keith didn’t remember how artfully Lance had cradled him. He’d pouted for days after that.

“Kids are going missing,” Keith said. “I opened an orphanage a few years back when Kolivan named me leader. Abandoned kids, homeless kids, runaways. They’re all welcome. I do my best to take care of them. I even got Antok to be Santa once.” He smiled slyly at that.

Lance swallowed, unease in his belly. “Any idea who’s been taking them?”

“A few, and definitely one that makes the most sense. But I can’t really just strike without more proof, and it’s driving me fucking nuts,” Keith seethed. “I know, that this.” He motioned to his wound. “Says the contrary, but if I hadn’t, then a bus load of kids would have been taken. I had to act. The worst part is, even with my best effort, some still got taken. I couldn’t save them.”

Lance took one look at the pillow-wall, grabbed Keith’s hands just the same. He squeezed and refused to look at Keith when he turned to look at Lance in his periphery. “You did your best, Samurai. I know you feel bad, but you did your best. Next time, you’re gonna do better. You’re gonna make sure no one ever hurts them again.”

Keith sucked in a big breath. He tightened his grip on Lance’s hand. “Yeah. I will. I promise you that.”

Lance nodded. His body swam with warmth, all feeling, all focus, on the way Keith’s rough palms touched his, and felt right. “Okay,” Was all Lance could say.

-

There was a shift after that. Something that didn’t have a name. Lance was almost afraid to give it one, like it would disappear if he did. Sometimes at night, Lance would lie awake, wondering if by tomorrow it would be nothing but a dream. Every morning, when he saw Keith’s smile and the gentle way he said Lance’s name, like a treasure only he knew, Lance knew better.

There was no reason for Keith to touch him so softly, run his fingers along his back and lid his eyes like there was nothing else to see but Lance. The way his hands roamed around to settle at his wrist; the way Lance was all but begging for him to cross that invisible barrier and kiss him, please, please, please. He didn’t, they didn’t, and Lance wasn’t sure why he was kind of okay with that.

Touches became words, the slow, sly curve that crept across Lance’s face and gave rise to heat on Keith’s face. The way his hips moved, deliberate and alluring as he watched Keith watching him. The way they’d stumbled after each other after drinking with the Blades for one member’s birthday. The feel of the wall against Lance’s back, the sound of Keith’s breath by his ear, threatening to finally cross the line, and the way Lance just wanted to bury his hands in his hair.

Then they’d blink and pull away. Bid each other goodnight like they hadn’t been seconds from something more. Only to wake the next morning and start all over again.

 The first time in months that Lance was able to call his parents, he couldn't contain himself even as he worried his teeth into his lip. He had all but thrust the phone at Keith and excitedly introduced him as his friend, heart thumping just the same, and taking vicious glee in the way Keith stuttered and spoke to his mom.

Keith confided in him more. Told him how if it wasn’t for Shiro, he wouldn’t have become leader of Marmora. His mother had left him in the care of his father, afraid to let him become involved with the Blades. His father had died, he’d become an orphan, had stolen the wrong car. One moment after the other, and he’d wound up as a Blade regardless. Tutored under Shiro, a young member himself. If not for Shiro, Keith had added, then Altea would still be at odds with them.

He told him all about the kids he was caring for, how he never forgot any of their names. (Lance couldn’t help ribbing him for forgetting Lance’s.) He even took Lance a few times to the homes, where he was swarmed by kids until he had been bowled over and held down in a flurry of giggles and sticky fingers. Beside him, Keith was pushing back bangs and kissing foreheads. Lance had never felt so tender.

He told him about how he was working with Altea to open a school for the kids he cared for. Altea had the better resources for their education, they would be in good hands. He told him how he’d suspected the one behind the missing kids was Sendak, a member of the Galra who’d struck out on his own with the death of their oldest leader. The Galra were eating themselves in a race to elect a new leader, and Sendak had figured taking one other gang down was as good as any reason to rally Galra behind him. Marmora had once been a part of the Galra, it would be a feat if Sendak could claim them back.

But Sendak was strong and he operated like he was born from the shadows. He could smile in your face and snap your throat in the matter of seconds and still walk away without raising a suspicion. Altea knew, Marmora knew, and hell even the Arus City PD knew. It didn’t make much of a difference, not yet.

Lance spent many nights curled around Keith, stroking his hair as he worried himself sick. He could only say so much to him in the long run, but Keith never let him think otherwise. He cradled Lance’s face, ran his thumb along his lip and thanked him, even as his eyes were sad.

-

If witchcraft was real, then so were demons. This Lance knew. He knew it the moment he’d laid eyes on Sendak. It was there in the crinkle of his lone eye, and in the way he skinned his teeth that made Lance’s hair rise on end. He couldn’t even see him and Lance was sure Sendak could _feel_ him there, sense him, was toying with him.

 _I can do this,_ Lance said to himself. _I can._

He shouldn’t have snuck off from Regris like he had. But he had anyway. Regris had taken him out for the weekly shopping trip, as per Keith’s instructions, and he’d run off, pulled by a gut-feeling he couldn’t shake. Then he’d seen it. One of Keith’s kids, jingling some coins in her hands and holding out an ice cream bar for another child beside her. Emmy, if he remembered right. In a matter of moments, there was Sendak, out in broad daylight, looking every bit the way he had in court when he’d blamed the whole thing on Veronica and gotten off scot-free.

He’d dialed Keith on video, hastily yelled something about Sendak as he tried to eat up the distance between him and the man, reaching for Emmy’s hand as Sendak grabbed her, throwing her into the back of a truck whose back gate had vaulted up. Keith was screaming and Lance couldn’t hear. Between one moment and the next, Lance was out cold and Emmy and Lila were huddled up against him.

-

When Lance woke up, it was to a dim-lit room, a handful of kids huddled and crying. Groaning, head-pounding, Lance forced himself up. His heart squeezed, looking at them. Dirty, scared, and just short of panicking, Lance reached out to them, beckoning them towards him. It only took a bit of hesitation before they were crowding him, trying to push deeper against his warmth as he soothed them.

“Keith will come,” He said. “He will. He promised. Keith won’t let us go.”

-

Lance would never forget the sight of Keith, bruised, shirt torn, and a bit of blood at the corner of his mouth, prying open the door of the room Lance and the kids were in, with his bare hands. It cracked under his force, splintering then giving way as he shouldered in. The kids swarmed him, hugging him and crying. Even as he murmured to them, Keith’s eyes only remained on Lance, dark and unreadable.

Lance’s ears perked at the sound of Thace ushering the kids away. Keith didn’t reach for him, only beckoned Lance to follow. Finally, after an eternity, Keith said, “You’re riding with me.” And nothing else.

-

The car ride to the apartment was silent. With only the sound of passing cars and the hum of the ac humming loudly were the only things between them. Lance glanced to Keith’s hands, his knuckles white on the steering wheel and his nostrils still subtly flared. Under the wash of passing street lights, Lance could see the way the bruise under his eye was starting to blossom. Keith’s split lip.

It didn’t take a genius to know Keith was still _pissed_.

Lance curled closer to the car window, resting his forehead against the cool glass and trying to will his mind quiet. The ghost of Sendak’s hands on him, big hands threatening to break bones; The press of his gun against Lance’s stomach. If not for Keith - if Keith had not come to save him, nearly busted his knuckles like he had busted Sendak’s jaw -

Lance bit back a shudder, bile rocking at the base of his throat. He didn’t want to think about that. Not with Keith within arm’s reach over the driving console, and yet an entire world away. Lance dug his fingers into the skin of his upper arms.

Even when Lance close his eyes, the pulse pounding in his head was _Keith, Keith, Keith._ Keith who he was indebted to, nearly a million and with his life. Keith who inherited the title of Leader in the infamous Blade of Marmora Gang. Keith who could gut him without a bat of an eye if he had to. Keith who he wanted to kiss. Keith who he had nearly gotten himself killed for because a rival asshole had started to kidnap the street kids and orphans Keith had created a home for. Keith who had yet to say anything to him since saving him.

Lance shifted the ac vent off of him with a loud click.

-

They took the back stairs up. Despite them not speaking, Keith had not budged when they got into the building. He flitted on glance at Lance but otherwise remained brooding with his hands in his pocket. It wasn't until Lance had begun climbing the stairs first, Keith trailing behind, that he realized: Keith didn't want him out of his sight.

Any other day, any other time, Lance would be over the moon. The thought of Keith so aware of him, eyes glued to his back, to his form, focused solely on him (no gang, no galra, no worries) would be enough to burn Lance inside out.

A hot rush of want and fervor, two forces trying to stay parallel even as everything screamed for them to twine and meld. The way he could maybe sway his hips and tease him with a curl of his lip. Keith would fall for it like last time, would race Lance up the stairwell, maybe trap him like the last, _this_ time maybe even kiss -

This time - this time Lance just wanted to hide.

When they reached his floor, Lance awkwardly shifted on his feet. Keith lingered by the door to the stairwell, hands clenching and unclenching as he searched for words. He should be yelling by now.

For once, Lance was glad Keith had given him an entire floor to himself. If Keith was going to yell at him, he didn’t want the added shame it would cause him. It was one thing to have his heart broken, but another to have an audience. Lance bowed his head, wrapping his arms around himself in anticipation.

Why wasn’t Keith talking?

“Do you,” Keith began. He stopped, exhaling. He took hold of Lance’s eyes with his own, gray eyes steely. “Do you have _any_ idea what you did?  Didn’t I warn you about Sendak? What the hell were you thinking!”

“About s-saving some kids?” Lance replied, trying for cheeky. “Keith -”

“You nearly got yourself _killed_!” Keith yelled. He seemed to surprise himself then. He breathed, voice going quieter. He crossed his arms, defensive.

“Lance, he could have killed you. If not for Regris, or Thace, or any of the others who came with me. You could have - I would have lost you.”

Lance bit his lip. “I know. Keith, I know. But the kids. I saw how much you cared about them and how much it tore you up inside about them possibly being hurt. If I could do something, I was going to.”

Lance hugged himself tighter. He could remember Emmy’s terrified face, the way she had been reaching out when she’d spotted him as she’d gotten dragged into that van. How could Lance _not_ do something? The way it had torn Keith up night after night that the street kids he’d taken under his wing, had created homes for were being trafficked off like common cattle. Keith and his sleepless nights, their faces like his niece and nephew, the way they’d lit up when Keith had come bearing gifts. He couldn’t let Keith’s heart hurt anymore if he could do something.

Keith shook his head. His face scrunched up, eyes searching Lance’s face. He uncrossed his arms, easing off his heels. In two steps he was in front of Lance, hands hovering over his upper arms. He took hold of him, bowing his head.

“That wasn’t on you to do. You had me so scared. I was sure you’d be dead when I got there, I was going out of my mind.”

“Weird reaction for some guy you technically hired as a maid,” Lance muttered.

Keith’s head flew up, scowling and offended. He gripped Lance harder, pulling him flush against him.

“You’re more than that, you idiot!” Keith’s breath was ragged. “After all this time, you’re more than that to me! Do you have any idea how I feel about you? I can’t imagine what life without you would be like. You make me better.”

He shook Lance gently. “You love the kids, you treat them like they’re - they’re ours. You make me laugh. You look out for me, and you light up every room you’re in. I tried so hard not to fall for you and it never worked.” Keith bent his head towards Lance, licking his lip. He looked down at Lance’s lips. “Lance, I love you.”

In between one blink and the next, Keith was stealing Lance’s lips, a tidal wave of _finally_ overtaking him. Keith’s hands slid down his arms, made a home on his hips as Lance’s hands hesitated before laying down on Keith’s chest. They came together again and again, the feeling of never enough keeping them tethered together. Lance never wanted to be apart from him. Never wanted to be without Keith’s touch and his love. Which made pulling away all the harder.

When he did, when he turned away from Keith’s lips moving to meet him again, Lance screwed his eyes shut so he wouldn’t see the look of hurt overtaking Keith’s face. His hands bunched up in Keith’s shirt.

“Lance?”

Lance swallowed. His tongue felt heavy and bitter. “Keith,” Lance started, chasing after Keith’s lips. “We can’t.”

Keith pulled back. He raked his eyes over Lance’s face. The heavy flush of his cheeks and the wet slick of his lips, swollen from where Keith’s teeth had nipped them red. The tip of Lance’s tongue touched the tip of his front teeth as he subtly shook his head.

“We _shouldn’t_. I - owe you too much. And you - Keith, you’re -” Lance struggled, looking away. “It won't work…”

Keith’s shoulders sagged as a rush of quiet breath escaped him. Lance’s fingers curled more into the loose wrinkles of Keith’s shirt, a subtle bend that made Keith’s vision tunnel. He raked his eyes up to Lance’s. Licking his lips, he bent a little closer, their noses a breadth away.

“Tell me no again. Tell me to go, and I will,” Keith breathed.

Lance dipped his head, lashes shadowing his eyes. His fingers curled more, pulling the fabric taut. The tip of his fingernail brushed the skin of Keith’s stomach through the cloth. Keith sucked it in with a sharp inhale. Tilting his head and nosing his way into Lance’s line of vision until their foreheads touched, Keith locked gazes with Lance again. Lance parted his lips, chest filling with air. Keith dragged his nails against the paint of the wall.

“Tell me no and I won’t lay a hand on you ever again,” Keith’s words ghosted Lance’s lips.

Glancing between Keith’s eyes and his lips, Lance’s hands hurriedly cupped Keith’s face and dragged him into a kiss.He melted his mouth over Keith’s and pressed their tongues together. They kissed loudly, messily, the sound of their breaths loud in their ears. Lance felt his back flatten against the wall, Keith’s curling against him, around him, lured in by the heat of his body and the hum of his pulse. Alive and here and almost Keith’s.

“You don’t know,” Keith growled against his lips. “You don’t know what you do to me. How I - go _crazy_.”

“That’s my line, you asshole. I’ve been craving this since the moment I saw you.”

“Then have me,” Keith said, voice pitched low and quiet, hopeful.

“Just like that?” Lance joked. He licked his lips, afraid that Keith would take it back, that he was just being cruel. He knew better though, knew that Keith was genuine with his feelings, what he committed to, what he gave himself up to.

And here he was, offering himself to _Lance_. Oh how the turns have tabled. Lance really wanted to laugh.

“Yeah. Just like that.” Keith took Lance’s other hand in his and kissed his knuckle.

Lance pressed forward, stole a kiss, then another, lost count and then stopped caring. In the moment it took him to take a breathe, let it pool in his lungs so he could surge forward again, Lance was murmuring “Mine” against Keith’s lips. Keith nodded, matching him kiss for kiss.

“Yes, yes, yours. All yours. Never letting you go,” Keith sighed. He let himself be pulled under.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warmybones asked me forever ago and I'm so sorry it took so long. But here we are FINALLY. I just hope I did even an ounce of your vision for it justice. 
> 
> the middle part is awkward because I was trying to keep this within 5k and despite my best efforts, even cutting out all the scenes I really wanted to get into, I, uh, failed. And......went overboard. I feel like if I had wrote out all the scenes I really wanted to.....ahh this would have passed 15k;;;;;;.
> 
> pretty sure i got that IV bit wrong ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Also I'm sorry I write nsfw bad LOL. I get embarrassed when >I< write it. I recently deleted one fic....i might clean it up and repost or not, we'll see.
> 
> I think soon I'm gonna try my hand at writing dc fics again for fun b/c joyfire is really taking me over. And hopefully some inatodo.
> 
> edit: I'm Me and I don't actually edit anything I write bc I hate myself. So LOL this fic is gonna get updated and rewritten in parts even though I posted it because yeah why not. Aaaand probably go over 10k. 
> 
> Warmybones: make it 5k  
> me: yeah 5k i can do that  
> also me: takes 4ever to finally finish/write this  
> also also me: finally writes it, goes way over the word limit  
> me: why am i like this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains the smut that was also requested for this. Rated E.

 

Keith’s knee wedged between Lance’s legs, pressing up against the growing hardness there. Lance hissed through his teeth, unable to look down past the tangle of their arms as Keith nudged at him through his jeans.

Lance dropped down on it, resting the underside of his growing erection on Keith’s thigh, hips angling in a steady circling. Keith harshly bit his lower lip. He dipped his hand down the waistband of Lance’s jeans, calloused finger pads dragging against the curve of Lance’s ass. Lance hissed, clashing their teeth together.

Dislodging his fingers with a growl, Keith picked Lance up in his arms and barreled into Lance’s room. Lance hummed, peppering Keith’s face with kisses, grinding his hard dick against Keith’s stomach where it was trapped between them, making Keith stagger and momentarily lose focus. He had to look over Lance’s shoulder to the bed to get his mind going again. Keith kicked the door shut with a backwards jab of his foot. It echoed loud enough that the other Blades in the adjacent apartments would know Lance was going to be dicked down like he should have weeks ago.

They toppled down onto the bed, Keith crushing Lance to the sheets. He pressed Lance’s hands down to the bed and devoured his mouth in a heady kiss. He humped down, their cocks sliding against each other. Their movements jerky and unrefined, just enough stimulation to made them wild but not enough, not nearly enough. Keith skirted the dip between Lance’s ass cheeks, just barely. He grabbed Lance’s ass, the plump of it spilling through his fingers.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for  _ages_ ,” He confessed. He curled his fingers.

Lance’s moan hitched, rocking back against Keith’s teasing fingers. He sucked on Keith’s tongue, and grabbed his wrist, grinding down against Keith’s thigh again.

Keith pulled back, mouth red and slick. His chest heaved as he looked from Lance’s face then down his torso to the button of his jeans. He hooked a finger under the under, a snarl showing his teeth.

“Off,” He said.

Lance nodded. “Off,” He echoed.

Keith popped the button, peeled Lance’s pants off, taking the boxers down with him. His eyes widened at the miles of long brown flesh becoming unhidden, soft and ready to wrap around his waist. He nearly tripped trying to out of his own. Lance laughed throwing his shirt aside. Keith grabbed the collar of his button-up and yanked down. A stray button bounced off Lance’s forehead as he watched the ruined fabric fall to the floor. Keith parted Lance’s legs and nestled himself in between.

“Hey,” Keith said.

Lance dug his fingers into the sheets. “Hi.”

“Still good? Still want it?” Lance nodded. “Good. Roll over for me.”

With one last lingering look, Lance got on his knees. He could hear his own breath echoing in his ears. There was a tense moment where the air was thick and empty, until the sound of a cap snapping made it all come rushing back. A wet finger touched his entrance and he moved back against it. Slowly, Keith sank a finger in.

“Yeah?”

Lance nodded against his arms. “Yeah.”

A second finger nudged its way in. Then a third, until Lance was chipping apart and aching.

Lance made a good picture like this. Barely holding himself up on parted, shaky legs. His erection stiff between them and his hole wet and open and ready. A drip of sweat fell from his chest. He was pressing his eyes against his forearms, head bowed to the bed and his ass there for Keith’s taking.

Keith held his erection in hand, running the latex-covered head of his cock against Lance’s entrance. Lance pushed back, impatient to be filled.  Lance hung his head until the tips of his sweat-slick bangs brushed against his folded forearms. Lance’s thighs quivered.

“Please,  _please_ , Keith!” Lance cried.

He nudged the head, only just barely breaching his partner, before he was pulled away again. Lance scoffed. He reached back to grab for Keith, only to have his hands swatted away. Keith ran his hands over the other man’s hips and rubbed circles in the bony jut of his hip bones. He flattened a palm against Lance’s belly. He felt the way he sucked it in, shuddering as he urged Keith more. Keith pressed a kiss against a shoulder blade, mouthing at a beauty mark resting there. Lance ground his teeth together.

“If you don’t get on with it, Keith Kogane, I will never let you touch me again!” Lance swore.

Keith kissed the back of Lance’s neck, resting the tips of his teeth there and pressed slowly in. When the cockhead breeched him, Lance inhaled sharply. He breathed out as it stretched him, hyper aware of the way Keith’s heartbeat jammed against his chest, a steady beat against Lance’s back, along his skin. Under Keith’s palm, Lance’s stomach pulled in, chest filling with air. As Keith sunk another inch in, Lance gulped air around a stutter of “ah, ah, ahs”, broken by a single hiccup.

Keith grunted, mind blank and roaring as he watched the way his hips slowly made their way flush to Lance’s ass. He parted a cheek, thumbed at Lance’s taint. Lance keened, toes struggling against the sheets as shivered. Keith pulled back, watching his length retreat from Lance’s warm body, the condom shiny with lube. Lance clenched as the head threatened to pop out. Keith let himself grin. He moved back in, punching in when he was a scant few inches from being flush with Lance’s ass, just to hear his hips slap against his skin. Lance rewarded him with a beautiful wail. He did it again and again until Lance’s cock was smearing pre on the sheets messily.

“You’re taking me so well,” Keith said, lowly. He bit in the inside of his cheek when Lance looked at him over his shoulder, face flush and teary. A tear ran down his cheek, hanging onto the edge of his jaw. He watched the slow swipe of Lance’s tongue along his lips, watched those red lips mouth his name.

“That all you got?” Lance challenged. “You finally have me and you’re going to disappoint me like this?  _Take me_.”

Keith pulled out, retreating from the bed. He couldn’t help the smug quirk of his lip when Lance all but gaped at him, trying to understand why Keith was not currently railing him straight into his mattress. Keith flipped Lance over and pulled Lance’s ass flush to his hips. He slid his hands behind Lance’s back and held him up. Lance’s legs locked behind his back. His fingers dug into his shoulders yelping when he was lifted.

“Keith??”

“You want me to take you? You got it, then,” Keith said. He made his way over to the wall. He hitched his lover up into a better grip, pressing Lance into the wall.

With one hip cocked and one arm supporting his boyfriend, Keith reached down to take hold of his erection. He pressed it against Lance’s hole and let gravity take over. He eased his lover down, watching under the cover of his sweaty bangs as Lance’s mouth dropped open, squirming to be filled. With a final push, Keith was fully sheathed, wrapped up again in Lance’s tight heat, flush chest to chest, and nipping at the tip of his chin.

“Tell me when,” Keith breathed.

A pause, Lance drinking in a gulp of air, and then a nod. “When.  _Now_.”

Tucking his face into Lance’s neck, Keith pulled back and then thrust home. Lance writhed against him, moaning into his ear as nothing but Lance’s mewls and the wet slap of skin echoed in the room. Between them, Lance’s erection weeped.

“B-Bet you never thought we would end up like this when you saw me?” Lance stuttered around a wobbly teasing smile as Keith pressed back in. “T -  _haah_  - Told you I was worth it.”

Keith dragged his cock back out, missing the heat of his lover instantly. His teeth clacked together, grinding as he tried to bite back his words. Lance cupped his cheek. A damn broke before Keith could stop himself.

“You are,” Keith babbled. “You’re worth everything, and I -  _god_  - how did I get so lucky? Worth more than this -  _my_  - shitty ass life. Lance, I’m  _yours._ I’ll give you everything.”

He mouthed at Lance’s neck, kissed under his jaw. He flattened his palm against Lance’s chest, pushing him until he was flat on his back. In his peripheral he could see, feel the way Lance’s legs bracketed his hips. “What do you want, Lance? Tell me.”

Lance sobbed around a moan. “Just you, just you. Please.”

Keith pressed his forehead to Lance’s, dug his back against the wall behind them and drove Lance over the edge. He watched the way Lance’s eyes slid shut, the way his brows furrowed, mouth dropping open and his face going slack. Felt him go boneless in his hands, entire weight drooping in Keith’s arms. Fighting against the downward pull of his eyelids, Lance looked to Keith. He pressed his thumb to Keith’s lower lip. Using the last of his strength to push forward, he kissed his lover and sighed, “Give it to me.” It took only two thrusts and Keith was groaning into completion.

Keith’s legs wobbled. Slowly, gently, they both slid down. Lance hooked his pinkies together behind Keith’s neck, willing his shaky arms to stay put. He took a content breath, feeling Keith’s hands take hold of his back and separate him from the wall. Keith didn’t let Lance go, cradling him against him, letting his knees come to cushion Lance’s gentle descent. Lance’s toes brushed the carpet as he brought them up to cross at the ankles at Keith’s back.

“Not bad,” Lance said, smiling drowzily.

Keith hummed. He nipped at the tip of his lover’s nose. “High praise coming from you.”

It was minutes, maybe hours, before Keith could gather his strength again. With a grunt, he hefted them both up, staggered to the bed and let them both collapse onto it sideways. Lance giggled, rolling over and drawing Keith up against him. They squirmed their way properly into the bed and wrapped themselves up together. Lance pressed his chin to Keith’s chest.

“Mine,” Lance found himself saying, the slow creep of a grin coming across his face. He brushed Keith’s hair behind his ear.

Keith laced their fingers together, kissing his pulse point on the inside of his wrist, then on the palm. A crackle flared inside of Lance, something like magic, like a charm. The soft curve of Keith’s gray eyes as he smiled too large to keep his eyes open.

“Yours,” Keith agreed.


End file.
